Car Wash Terror!

You need to get your car washed in Minnesota.  Even when it's 8 degrees with a windchill of -9.  If for no other reason than keeping your new coat clean while trying to buckle your twins into their carseats inside the little cozy garage in which you park your Jeep and minivan.  Which is, of course, why I chose to go through the carwash today.  With the boys. 

Big mistake.

They've been through the carwash before.  Just last week, in fact.  But something was different today (I still don't know what, though). 

Oh, and just when you think you have your kids figured out - N was "brave" this weekend but quiet, M was "talkative" but fearful of climbing a climbing a play structure - they change!

N FREAKED.  He started whimpering when I turned into the drive, crying when I paid for the carwash, sobbing while we waited our turn to enter, and hollering "Ah Duh! Ah Duh!" (All Done! All Done!) when the water began spraying the windshield. 

M was very concerned and cried a little, but I think it was empathy for his brother more than anything. 

I tried animal crackers, I tried singing, I tried explaining that the van was getting a bath, narrating as it was wiped with a "washcloth," its hair "rinsed," and "dried."  Nothing helped.

So I sat back, listened to the hollering and thought, "this will make a great blog post," and "hmm...maybe I'll take them through the car wash when they're naughty...that's multitasking, isn't it?"